The Light of Dawn
by Eilam Wordsmith
Summary: The long night is over, but what comes next in the light of dawn?
1. The Proposal

They had wondered what would come next, after the final battle. Cullen held the lady Inquisitor as they watched the bright rays of morning seep over the mountains. After what seemed endless darkness, the dawn had finally come, and with it, the question "what now?".

Cullen slipped his hand into his pocket, fingering the small box that had rested there since they had returned from Adamant Fortress. Since his Lady Trevelyan had stepped out of the Fade again. Ironically, it had been then, when to others she seemed immortal, that he had feared losing her the most.

To survive the Conclave had been miraculous. To emerge from the remains of Haven had been an answer to the most fervent whispered prayers of his life. But her return from Adamant...

It was selfish to expect any more miracles. The Maker surely would not save her again.

So Cullen had spoken quietly with one of the smiths hanging about Skyhold, one of those who specialized in precious metals. He had been very particular about what he wanted, the gold engraved with loops and swirls, and set with a single smooth stone. Lazurite.

If the smith wondered about the use of that particular stone, or if he noticed that the Inquisitor tended to use the blue ore frequently in her arms and armor, he made no comment. The ring was finished in a week and delivered directly into the hands of Commander Cullen.

And it remained in his hands still. They still had their battle with Corypheus to face, after all. The Inquisitor could not afford to be distracted in the face of such a threat. Though he had been tempted, when she found him praying at the small altar in the garden. He had held her in his arms, and she had confessed just how afraid she truly was...surely this would have been the best time for such a vow, some promise that she would return, no matter what.

But he had held his tongue, and pulled her closer. What he had to ask her should not come from desperation or fear. When they could be at peace without the terror of tomorrow, that would be the time.

And now their battles were won. Now she basked in her victory just as she squinted into the morning light. Surely now, now was the time?

"A question, if I may?" He said, pulling away from their embrace.

The Inquisitor turned, smiling. "Of course, Cullen. What is it?"

Oh Maker's breath, when she smiled at him like that he felt like his thoughts were turning to water and leaking out his ears.

"Ah...I wanted...no, that's not right. This is...Maker's breath, this is difficult. Let me start again." He took a deep breath, and held her hands in his own.

"I never thought I would meet a woman like you. Someone who is a partner, and a strength, and a comfort in all things. I do not feel that I deserve you, but I will spend the rest of my life trying, if you will let me."

Cullen let go her hands, bent to one knee, pulled out the ring box, and opened it before her. The Inquisitor gasped, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle the sound. She seemed afraid to breathe.

"Alethea Trevelyan, I ask you now for your hand in marriage. Would you do me the greatest honor in becoming my wife?"

Tears rolled down her face, and she had not removed her hand from her mouth. He had done it wrong. He had messed it up and now she had no idea how to let him down gently-

And then her head gave the tiniest of nods.

"Yes," she whispered. Her hand fell away at last, and he saw that she was smiling and laughing. "Yes yes yes yes YES!" He picked her up and swung her around, and they were both laughing in the morning light.


	2. The Trevelyans

_I admit, I hadn't expected to continue this. It was really just going to be a one-shot, I swear! But then my boyfriend proposed, and I started imagining what Cullen and Trevelyan might have to go through, and...well, this is the result. _

_So to celebrate Cullen romance day on tumblr and the release of The Descent DLC today, I will be continuing this story. Maker help us all._

* * *

"This was a bad idea."

Seeing the ornate carriage roll through the gates in front of them, Cullen was inclined to agree with the Inquisitor. Some of his soldiers were in parade armor, lining up on either side of him and the other counselors. Alethea stood in front of them, ready to greet her family.

Well, not ready so much as trying not to wring her hands, judging by how they were shaking at her sides.

He hadn't seen his lady like this for a long time. Not since the early days of the Inquisition, when her mark and her power had still been new. She'd seemed so unsure at first, eager to take advice and orders. It wasn't until she'd decided to recruit the mages at Redcliff that he saw her hold her ground, refusing to back off from her choice. (That might have been the moment he first started to fall in love with her. In truth, he has now loved her so long he's not sure when it began.)

These days, Alethea Trevelyan does not show this uncertainty to anyone outside of her inner circle. And even to them, it is a rare occurrence. Except for Cullen. While the rest of Skyhold thought this visit would be business as usual, he knew how anxious she'd been ever since the invitations had gone out.

"I should have written them myself," she'd said, pacing back and forth in his office while he watched from his desk. "Mother will think it impolite to not come from my own hand…"

"Surely that doesn't matter?" He'd replied, feeling his own tension rise as he watched her. "They are your family, after all. Won't they simply be overjoyed that their youngest is to be married?" Uncertainty and his own nervousness had crept into that last question. How difficult were his future in-laws going to be?

Alethea had laughed, a single, short "Ha!" as her fingers twisted and twined around themselves. "Mother will attempt to run everything, including Skyhold, the way _she_ wants. Father won't do anything at all to stop her; he will sit in a corner and read, and that will be all. Max will bluster and swagger like he does, and Evelyn…oh, she will not be happy. She's incredibly pious, and I'm the Herald of Andraste, but I'm also her little mage sister who is getting married before her."

He'd felt his stomach drop, but pushed it aside as he stood and embraced his betrothed. "And here I was worried you wouldn't like _my_ family," he murmured into her ear. Her hair smelled delightful, like cinnamon, and he buried his nose into it as she chuckled.

"I may be a bit of a mess while they're here," she'd said. "But we must show a strong front, or they will rip us to shreds."

"Oh, lovely." He groaned. "The Winter Palace all over again."

And, truly, that was the feeling that rolled through his gut as the Trevelyan carriage ground to a halt in Skyhold's courtyard. Josephine and Leliana, standing on either side of him, both glanced his way as he stood a little straighter. Be quiet, be compliant, be polite. Not a toe out of line or the Trevelyans would oppose their daughter's marriage and cause a diplomatic incident for the Inquisition.

"Is it too late to run?" Alethea whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Cullen desperately wanted to stand by her side, hold her hand. But she was the Inquisitor, and he was her general. Her family was noble, and his was not. Though their relationship was one of equals, until the betrothal agreement was recognized and signed by both families at the end of the week, they must put on a show of being two separate classes. Although even after that, it would still be her keep, and in public she would always be the one in charge.

So instead he leaned forward and whispered, "I have your back, my lady."

That seemed to steady her, and she smiled as the carriage door swung open.

A small woman, at least a head shorter than Alethea, stepped out first. The Inquisitor stiffened, and Cullen noticed then how sharp the woman's gaze was, and the commanding way she stood. This would have to be Lady Theadora Trevelyan.

An older man, incredibly tall and stooped, was next to emerge. He seemed like a heron battered by a storm, with his silvery hair, long limbs, and hollow cheeks. Bann Avner Trevelyan.

A younger man followed, also tall, but nowhere near as skinny as his father. Maximilian Trevelyan looked around at Skyhold in a way that Cullen did not like. It reminded him of the way a man might look at a horse he was intending to buy in the future. Alethea had mentioned that her brother had been fond of taking her toys from her when she was younger. Seeing him now, Cullen did not doubt it. Perhaps his first impression was mistaken, but he seemed a spoiled noble who was accustomed to always getting what he wanted.

Last out of the carriage was Evelyn Trevelyan, and it was remarkable how she resembled her younger sister. The color of her hair and eyes, the shape of her face and jaw…but he could still notice the difference. Alethea was fit but slim, suitable for a noble and then a mage who had spent a great deal of time indoors. But Evelyn was shorter, and built with layers of muscle evident even beneath her fine dress. And the way she walked, as though accustomed to heavy armor. She looked curious, but distant, and Cullen wondered what that look meant.

"Mother, Father," said the Inquisitor, "allow me to welcome you all to Skyhold. It is such a pleasure to see you again."

Lady Trevelyan moved forward to embrace her daughter, then held her at arm's length. "Hello, dear. You know, I did not expect this to be such a _long_ journey. I don't think I like you being so far away from your family. Surely this Inquisition could relocate somewhere closer to Ostwick?"

Cullen could not see Alethea's face, but he imagined the small, polite smile she must be wearing. Her courtly smile, she called it.

"We have already had to relocate once, Mother. I wouldn't relish doing so again. Max, Evie, how are you?"

"Utterly bored, Allie," drawled Max. "I trust you have something entertaining planned after that dull trip?" His eyes flicked to Leliana, then Josephine, and landed on Cullen. "I say, is this your beau?"

Every Trevelyan eye was suddenly turned to him. He shot a pleading look at Alethea, who had turned around, blushing.

"I'm so sorry, forgive my manners. These are my counselors. Lady Josephine Montiliyet of Antiva, our diplomat. Lady Leliana of Orlais, our Seneschal. And Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath, commander of our forces. And…my betrothed."

Hearing her call him that still made him smile, as did seeing the ring he had put onto her finger. To belong to each other, even if it was not fully, not yet…it felt like a miracle had been granted just for him.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you all," he said, bowing his head. "The Inquisitor has told me so much about you."

"_The Inquisitor_?" Said Max. "Don't you allow him to use your name, Allie? Or is that something else you ordered him to do?"

Alethea bristled, and it took Cullen a moment to wonder why. Out of the corner of his right eye, he saw Josephine stiffen, and then he got it. Max was implying that he had been ordered into this betrothal. That it was some kind of…publicity stunt for the Inquisition.

He knew then that he would never like Max. The best he could hope for would be a kind of civil animosity.

Josephine, blessed saint that she was, chose that moment to step in before any punches could be thrown. "Perhaps your family would enjoy a tour of Skyhold, Inquisitor? There is some time before the banquet this evening, after all."

Cullen watched as Alethea pulled herself back, restraining her magic from setting fire to her brother's hair, probably. "Yes, Josephine, that would be wonderful. Evie, we have a proper Chantry garden that you might be interested in. Or perhaps our new training grounds?" She smiled again, this time hopeful, waiting for praise. "You should see the recruits at work. Cullen has truly made them a force to be reckoned with."

Despite being shorter than her sister, Evelyn somehow managed to look down at her. "I'm sure it's all very nice, Allie."

The condescension from her older sister seemed to be the final blow to Alethea. "Well then," she said briskly, "I will leave you to it. I'm afraid that I am needed elsewhere today, but I shall see you all again at the banquet tonight."

She strode away, heading up the stairs to the great hall and (he suspected) her quarters. Leliana followed her, murmuring something to the Inquisitor as she walked. Cullen moved to follow as well, but was stopped short by the Lady Trevelyan appearing in front of him.

"Young man," she said, "we must have _words_, you and I."

It was remarkable how intimidating she was; the woman barely came up to his chest, but he still had to force himself not to take a step back. There could be no retreat here, he knew. Still, the glare she fixed on him reminded him of nothing so much as the Inquisitor's face when she had returned from the Fade at Adamant. At least he knew where that commanding presence came from.

Josephine was already leading the rest of the family up the side stairs, gesturing to the many repairs they had made. Cullen tried to catch her eye, but to no avail.

"Ah, Lady Trevelyan, I believe you are missing the tour. Perhaps another time?"

"No." She leaned forward. "I wish to retire to my rooms. It has been a long journey, and I would like to rest before this banquet my daughter has planned. You will escort me."

Oh Maker, did he remember where they were supposed to be staying?! "Er…"

The lady's left eyebrow twitched upward. "Unless that is too difficult for you? I was not aware that my daughter's intended was a simpleton."

Well. That would be two members of Alethea's family that he would not be getting along with. Although frankly, Maximilian seemed to be an absolute delight compared to his mother.

"It's…no trouble," Cullen replied. His jaw was already starting to hurt from clenching it so tightly. "If you will follow me, please."

Alethea had mentioned something about making sure the guest rooms over the garden were cleaned. That was where they would be staying, surely? He hoped that Lady Trevelyan would keep silent on the walk there. But that hope was in vain.

"You are the Commander of the Inquisition's forces?" She asked as they began to climb the main stair. "It is your troops that I have seen trampling all over southern Thedas?"

"That is correct. We have had to keep the peace, with Orlais' civil war and Ferelden still recovering from the Blight—"

"And you are from Ferelden, are you not? One of those dog lords?"

What he would not give for the freedom to trip her down the stairs.

"I would not call my family 'lords'. They hold no rank. What I have, I have earned."

"As a Templar."

"Yes."

She sniffed. "I must say, I do not like the idea of my child betrothed to a Templar, serah."

The honorific threw him for a moment. He'd known the Trevelyans were Marchers, but for a moment he was back in Kirkwall. That blasted, cursed wreck of a city. He was not proud of all of the things he'd done there. He did not like the man he'd been there. But the Lady Trevelyan was causing his already raised hackles to come up to his ears.

"Alethea had told me her family was very pious," he said, determined not to look at the woman walking beside him. "Yet you do not approve of a Templar marrying your daughter?"

"Do not mistake me, serah. We had planned for Alethea to become a Templar herself, as Evelyn has done. When she did not display any aptitude for the sword or bow, we thought she would dedicate herself to the Chantry. Many of our family have done the same. But then her magic developed. Instead of the pride of serving the Maker and the blessed Andraste, my child was locked away."

"I fail to see how this would lead to your disapproval of Templars. From what I understand, the Ostwick Circle was quite permissive."

"Serah! I do _not_ disapprove of Templars. I am concerned with Alethea _marrying_ one. You have been trained from a young age to mistrust and restrain mages. Who is to say you would not harm my daughter, the Herald of Andraste, after some nightmare or argument?!"

Before he knew what he was doing, Cullen had whirled on her, looming above his future mother-in-law in a cold rage. To her credit, she did not flinch, and her gaze was steady.

"First," he said, his voice low and very quiet, "a Templar's duty was to protect mages from others as well as protecting others from them. We were supposed to be their guardians as well as their guards. There were abuses. But that is, secondly, why I left the order. I have stopped taking lyrium. I have dedicated myself to the Inquisition. To Alethea. Third, I would rather _destroy_ myself than let _any_ harm come to her by my hand. On that count, you may be satisfied."

Cullen leaned away, one hand on the sword that hung on his hip. Restraint. Control.

"Ah, Lady Trevelyan, Commander, there you are!" Josephine rounded the corner, the rest of Alethea's family in tow. In a moment she had taken in the hostility swirling through the air, and glanced at Cullen. "Commander?"

Maker, he'd just spoken to Lady Trevelyan the same way he would speak to one of his soldiers caught misbehaving. He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, aware of the heat under his hand. He needed to see Alethea. Now.

Mumbling some apology, he moved around the group and headed for the Inquisitor's tower. Lady Trevelyan stared after him, her expression thoughtful.


	3. Notice

This is a notice I will be putting on all of my stories I still plan on updating. I'm moving my fanfics over to Archive of Our Own, under the name Tales2TellU. Any future updates can be found there.

I AM NOT deleting my account! You will still be able to find all of my old content here. However, if you want to see any new content from me, make sure to check in at AO3 from now on.

Thank you to all my loyal readers and fans; it means so much that so many have enjoyed what I've written. I look forward to the pages ahead.


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